


Sorrow and Pain

by tiredwitch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, One Shot, Reflection, Remus drinks firewhisky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5999890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiredwitch/pseuds/tiredwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus reflects on the death of his friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorrow and Pain

Remus was unable to sleep and he grew restless as the early hours of the morning approached. Every sound seemed to make him anxious, the creaking of the floorboards beneath his bed, the rattling of the windows as they were blasted by the heavy wind and rain, and even his own unsteady breaths disturbed him.   

A bright bolt of lighting lit up Lupin’s room soon followed by the deafening clap of thunder that seemed to shake the very floor beneath him. Despite the rain outside, the air was humid, making it almost difficult to breathe. His back was soaked in sweat and his shirt clung uncomfortably to his flesh.

The werewolf eventually found himself sitting alone in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place, clutching a glass of firewhisky, his thoughts straying towards his departure to the Burrow in the coming day. He was glad the he would finally have some company that included someone other than Molly Weasley who continued to pester him day and night, forcing him to help her clean up the place. She was right of course; the state of the house was a disaster, but he also knew cleaning was a distraction for her, and there was no one else to do it now that Sirius was gone. Webs danced beneath the ceiling and it seemed that there was no escape from the lofty spinners and the dust that accumulated over the years. Lupin's vision was constantly blurred by the dust which filled his nostrils wherever he went, coating the inside of his lungs. It was suffocating. The whole ruddy place felt like a prison.

The werewolf’s eyes watered slightly at the sight of the empty chair across the table. _Sirius’ chair_. The ache in his heart grew; an ache which he has so desperately tried to ignore was suddenly burning bright inside him. He could not allow his emotions to overtake him, he had to be there for the order, and he needed to be there for Dumbledore and Harry, especially Harry, whose current vulnerable state would render him susceptible to Voldemort’s power. He allowed his anger and fear freedom as he stared at his clenched fists upon the table. A single tear fell from his left eye, a tear that he hastily wiped away.  _There will be none of that!_ He could not show weakness, not now. Yet strength in such times was difficult to find and a small part of him feared that Voldemort’s growing strength would be too much for all of them to overcome.

12 Grimmauld Place felt hollow following the death of his best friend, a death that he will never be able to overcome. It is believed that the spirit of someone will linger within the home, yet it felt barren to Lupin. The was no life left in this place, only a mere memory of the short time Sirius was able to walk the halls as a free and happy man, a memory too painful to recall. The day his best friend left the world haunted his dreams. Remus could recall the many nights he had woken up, drenched in sweat, blood pumping furiously through his veins at the sound of Bellatrix's triumphant scream as Sirius fell through the archway. He saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his friends face as he stumbled back through the ancient doorway and disappeared beyond the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though caught by a breeze, then fell back into place, still once more.

There was nothing he could do. It made him feel weak, and it was his weakness that cost Harry the only family he had left. He could only pray now that despair would not drag him down.

_'It is useless to meet revenge with revenge. It will heal nothing.'_

His mother's words echoed within his mind. As a child she would often speak of the cruelty and hatred that lingered within the world. She claimed that committing evil would do no good in getting rid of it. He believed her, he believed everything she had told him, until now. He wanted revenge. He wanted Bellatrix to suffer, he wanted Lucius to suffer and he wanted to Voldemort to feel the pain that he has inflicted upon so many others.

" _HE – IS – NOT – DEAD!"_  The force and desperation in Harry's voice haunted him.  _He is dead and he isn't coming bac_ ,he thought. He didn't want to believe it. The truth was too painful to accept and reality to painful to live. The mere agony in Harry’s eyes as he watched his godfather fall at the hand of Bellatrix made Lupin feel physically sick to his stomach. He wished that he could be there for the boy. It was hard enough watching him witness his Godfather’s demise, but he could not imagine the grief that would be consuming him now. Unable to confide his despair to his uncle or aunt, Remus could only hope that Harry has the strength to overcome his pain on his own and that Dumbledore had a good plan.

Lupin trusted the old wizard with his life but there are times when even the strongest stagger beneath the weight of evil. Lupin’s thoughts wondered back to the night before as the old wizard exited the kitchen of Grimmauld Place following the conclusion of their meeting. Dumbledore briefly met Lupin’s eyes for what was only a mere fraction of a second, but Lupin did not miss the look of uncertainty in those glistening pools of blue. For as long as he knew Dumbledore, the old wizard was always a calm and collected man. He was a figure to be feared, but now it would seem that even Dumbledore feared the uncertainty of the future. Yet his words echoed in his mind. Words that Remus repeated over and over again to himself until it was all that he heard;

_“It will end when Voldemort no longer draws breath. It will end when his supporters are no longer loyal to him and it will end when there is no soul and no power left within him. That is when it will end.”_

The light at the end of the tunnel was dim, but it was still there.


End file.
